Jo(h)n Jonny JODY-heimer Jonathan-Schmidt

I was running, running, running,

Through the forest, forest, forest,

And it was pretty, pretty, pretty,

But then I saw Horace, Horace, Horace,

I love trail running. In college one of my preferred areas to frolic around was in Bartram Forest. It is a network of green & brown objects riddled with trails right off of US-441. Miles and miles of dirt, trees, rocks, and the occasional naked hippy*. One of those areas where somebody could fall asleep and wake up unscathed.

My favorite reason to run out in nature is to get a certain elation. I call it a third wind**. For background, second wind is what most people feel at a certain point of distance running. When your body switches metabolic processes. This form of anaerobic metabolism I speak of becomes that best friend at a bar who is down to play iSpy for a five hours.

But third wind. That’s when limbo presents itself to me. Time isn’t a priority nor is my body's exhaustion an issue nor do I care where I am going nor do I realize where I am. Or who I am.

I just run.

Did I mention, mention, mention,

That I stole from Horace, Horace, Horace,

He was a troll, troll, troll,

Who’s face was bleh, bleh, bleh

Loblolly pines served as inebriated High Overseers. The always physically imposing but essentially inept trees that make me rub my eyes to make sure Slenderman isn't chasing me.

Today was different. I did have a goal. Today my agenda had been clear that cloudy morning. To take back a relic my possession from the nasty, horrid-looking, disease-ridden, no nipple-having, mud-troll.

Once I mustered up my will, I crept up to a seemingly-lifeless cobblestone bridge. Tiptoeing up to the unprotected item, I made an unnatural noise and lunged for it. Once it pleased my fingertips, I fell childishly backward. The troll did not make one grunt, grumble, or mumble. 

Then I left.

I wove in-between the burnt timber as though I was Thomas Saint. My running shoes had become footprints, toes providing traceable footprints. But it t would take the troll a fortnight to catch me. That is if I were to stop moving. My bare feet trampled over stones, acorns, pine combs, red clay, smoldering ashes. The calluses on my feet were that thick to where I could have had a footbath at the crest of Orodruin. One foot, two foot, big toe, small toe. Rain drops falling off the tip of a leaf. Not on-beat but perpetual.

By the time the troll had consumed his late-morning brunch, I was already grabbing a pint at The Green Dragon Inn.

By the time the troll figured out his relic was not with him anymore, I was grabbing my fourth pint at The Tavern. 

648 kilometers from where the troll got hit.  And he screamed out to the heavens, I mean he screamed to where all the creatures and critters who had functional eardrums. My own ears caught his tone and along with the black muck in his pupils. It was as though he was sitting in the stool right next to me. 

My mind collapsed from my fugue state of strenuous activity. My mind quickly returned from Middle Earth back to Milledgeville, Georgia. I had run out about 3 miles from the main trailhead. I fell through the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th stages of limbo. My wireless headphones were at 0%. Somebody woke me up.

There were three humans in the cab of a modded pick-up truck. Belaying sayings that sliced to the air and rattled my endorphins.

"N*gger" is the title they believed me to be. I have over four names, they needed to try again,

 The trail route in Bartram I normally take had been washed out, so my running shoes, which had reanimated, hit the Vinson Highway pavement. Only for a few minutes. The action and reaction only took a few seconds. I didn’t yell back or throw a rock at their windshield. Maybe they were unaccompanied minors attempting a prank or maybe a white supremacist group or maybe some of my college associates. Maybe I could have even set myself up for an outdated slave joke since on occasion I run without Asics. But "maybe"is for the indecisive.

Whatever that maybe was, I didn’t have time for it. I had 5Ks to run.

I glanced back at that troll, troll, troll,

Who called me a derogatory term, term, term,

But I did not stop, stop, stop

Because I was not done running, running, running,

--

*A story for a different time.

**A third wind is a term I made up to refer to a euphoric feeling. In this state, I imagine a daydream sequence of me running in an imaginary environment. In for this fictional setting, I’m a hobbit running through The Shire.

Blood by The Middle East always captivated my mind, soul, and spirit to put me in an euphoric mood. No matter what the situation, 

How To Lose a Jon In 10 Days

I am firm believer that I am the LAST person in the solar system to be giving out dating advice, especially since I have continuously deflected dating in high school to get my K/D ratio at 1.2 on CoD (see what I mean?). So here are a few of my random quirks and backstories that have gotten (got?) me to this point as a 26 year-old man-child.

*Please be advised, once again, this is not dating advice. Because me giving out dating advice is like Steve Harvey giving out any advice. It just shouldn't happen,

I had the pleasure of growing up with Xbox live and a decent internet service. So my dating life conveniently was hindered in high school due to me playing Halo 3, Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2, and a whole slew of Rockstar games. The opposite sex was cool in my book, but me and Gtownboi88 had to set aside weekend nights to get those sweet, sweet achievements Xbox achievements.

As times progressed, I awkwardly and briefly stumbled into the dating scene when college started. I technically didn't have my first kiss until college since my teeth cut a girl's eyelid due to lack of aim on the first go around and it was bad. Well more pathetic because Google had failed me, 

Remember that Spongebob episode where he says "I'm ugly and I'm proud!" and Squidward subtly says "is that what you call it?" and he gains the bare minimum of self-confidence to exist? Yeah. But quick reminder that my mentality is "I am the sh*t but also I am a little sh*t" and that didn't fair well.

When post-college life came around, I had hit a stride and felt what I needed was attainable, and my communication came out of dormant. Punctuality became (essential) important, intention became tier 1, futures were discussed, but I noticed I started attaching myself to maybe 60%-75% of the a person. Like toxic traits were ignored and I only wanted to pick out the positive, beneficial ones. Maybe someone is intellectually, emotional, socially, and financially sound but romantically had some rough habits. Even though the communication was there, that trait didn't just lay around dormant. It still negatively impacted me. Which wasn't and still isn't healthy for me or any partner I was with,

It's also strange because I will get so jittery and happy when meeting that new person to where I get annoyed with my thoughts on whether I should text them or not. Every time I see that person, my heart would drop down to the soles of my feet. But also at a certain point, I had to think that I was only excited because someone chose to speak to me, and they could have literally done anything else today. (Yes, I know, Jonny is annoying)

Came to the hard truths, like understanding if people are too busy to date me at 27, what hope do I have of dating them when they are busy at 35. Humans will make time for you if they really want too. No one is that occupied. Unless you're The Rock (have you seen his IG?) people have priorities in life and it's okay if it doesn't involve me. People who I have known for years and years used to remain in my life because they create that time and space. But for years and years they hindered that growth to find someone. It's like I have been a dandelion being told dandelions are just weeds. When that's not that truth at all,

I still think there's more good women then men percentage wise, but it is vital to everyone's everyday life to just ask sometimes. You don't have to wait 10 days to do so. Seeing negative, undefinable bad tendencies in the first 5 minutes of a meet-up (one girl asked me if I was gay repeatedly because I wore a yellow shirt), it's okay to hit that step-back. Sometimes there are people that I meet over a dating app and wished that I met them at a Comic Con or in college. Just let them know how you feel, for better or for worse. And if someone asks you to stop talking to them, maybe (definitely) you should stop talking to them,

And it's okay to be intimate with someone you've known for years but there is a certain amount of respect for that friendship that has dissipated. I think that's real.

Almost everything about dating is nice to me. It can be stressful and a waste of time, but you get to meet someone new, someone who you talked to for a week or for a year and they are anxious to meet you. They don't know of your faults or mistakes, you get to make the same bad decisions all over again if you want to be that way. Or learn from them, that's probably better. It's like a weird time loop or Groundhog Day. You can change anything you want but it's always going to be the same result on your end. Just stay true to yourself but please, for the love of Jon, don't be a terrible. Yes, I am talking to you 21 year-old Jon,